Saturday was quiet. Highs were in the low 60s and winds were at a gale force (what the fuck?!) so it wasn't a very good beach day. I insisted on going down to the beach anyway. We trudged our way down the deserted beach with the wind sandblasting Angry's bare legs. I took off my shoes, rolled up my pants and waded into ankle-deep water for exactly long enough to run away from the first wave that might get my cuffs wet, and ran back to where Angry was waiting. Okay, I'd put my feet in the Gulf, we could move on to other things now. We spent the rest of the day exploring Largo, Clearwater, and St. Petersburg. When we figured out that there was really nothing to do, despite all our looking, we went back to the hotel and took THE greatest 3.5 hour nap, ever.
Race Morning
Daylight savings was ending, and we had to spring ahead and lose an hour's sleep. Stupid farmers! I hate Daylight savings. But if you think I'm cranky in the morning, you should see Angry! Homeboy is the worst waker-upper I've ever met. I tried turning on the light, I tried coaxing, insulting, tickling, throwing shit, and ditching him in favor of breakfast.
We hit the road and enjoyed seeing sun rise over Tampa as we drove across the bay to Thonotosassa (try saying that 5 times fast!). When we arrived at the race venue we were surprised to see way more runners than we were expecting. "Oh shit, I hope it's not too competitive," I said to Angry. As we walked to the registration table I settled my fears about coming in dead last. "She's got a fat ass, I can run faster than her. She's wearing soccer shorts, I can run faster than her. She's old, I can run faster than her."
"She's got stupid hair" Angry said, pointing to a girl with a 6" puff of hair sticking straight up off of the top-most part of her head. I was surprised he'd torn his eyes off a female posterior for long enough to look up to the top of her head.
"She's got stupid hair, I can beat her," I said.
"Do I have to do this?" said Angry as we came up to the registration table. Originally he had agreed to do the 15k, but that was downgraded to the 5k when, a week before the trip he hadn't run yet... at all, ever. Now it appeared that Princess Angry didn't want to lose his Brooks slippers, or soil his Under Armour gown on the filthy Florida trails. I agreed to let him DNS without giving him a hard time if I could call him a pussy for the rest of the trip. Deal!
Angry is a pussy.
So while I went off to the bathroom to listen to Floridians talk about how cold it was (in the mid-60s), Angry went to the car to get the paper. Then we walked over to the starting line. "Oh my God, that chick's naked!" I said. Well, okay, she wasn't naked, but she was as close as you could be in public without getting arrested. I have underpants that are looser-fitting and lower-cut than her shorts were, and on top she was wearing nothing but a sports bra. It was a skimpy sports bra, if that's possible. She sure stood out in a crowd where most were in jackets. Like fleece jackets.
"You can beat her," said Angry.
"I sure hope not," I said. "There is no excuse to dress like that unless you are going to win."
The start line was at the bottom of a berm. Berm is a word I didn't even know I knew until I saw one. It was a steep embankment about 20 or 30 feet tall between one pancake-flat terrace of land and another. Yep, that there's a berm, I thought right before I hurled myself down to the bottom of it. At the bottom all the Floridians were complaining saying, "Why couldn't we start at the top? Are these 50 feet really that important?" It was steep, but I mean, come on, it was only about 50 feet long! These people don't know how good they have it! When the whistle went off I was to the top of it before I even had a chance to get out of breath.
After the monstrous "hill" (berm) we ran into the woods where it was flat, flat, flat. There wasn't even so much as a root to run over, so I turned my attention to the sides of the trail and kept an eye out for alligators. I imagined heroic scenes where I pushed competitors into the gaping jaws of lurking alligators, but I didn't see any alligators.
I
'd forgotten my Garmin in the hotel room, and there were no mile markers, so I was running entirely based on feel. My legs were stiff from not doing anything the day before, and I probably took it out too fast trying to overcompensate. After about a mile I figured that I probably couldn't hold this pace and started thinking of my competitors as pace bunnies rather than alligator snacks. Hey, I could always throw them to the alligators in the last 5k if I felt good. But despite my best efforts to hang back, I wound up passing the pace bunnies too easily and picked off several without really wanting to. As I pulled ahead of a peroxide blond (read: obnoxious) she yelled, "How ya feelin'?"
She was already behind me and there were several other women around that I thought maybe she was with, so I didn't say anything, but then when no one else answered I said, "Are you talking to me?" She was. I did a quick body scan: my legs were loosening up, but I was feeling a bit dizzy and seeing... not stars, but patterns. My stomach was upset. "O-kay" I said.
"You've gotta say 'great', even if you're not feeling great!" she said. I was glad this woman was behind me. Meaning, I'm glad this woman wasn't going to catch up with me. Where were those damn alligators?
Having fed all the women in sight to the alligators, I was kind of in no man's land for a few minutes and then, up ahead, I saw a river. Specifically, a river intersecting the trail. Oh shit! I did not agree to this! I thought. There are probably alligators in there. I took a quick look around to see if there was a way over it. There was a foot bridge, but it was taped off. I would have still taken a few extra seconds to duck the tape, but the bridge was going off in one direction and looked like it might be going to another trail. Oh fuck, well here goes nothing, I thought as I picked up my knees and sloshed through the knee-deep water for about 15'. Once on the other side my legs felt significantly heavier, my pants were stuck to my calves in such a way that I wondered if my pants would fall down, and my shoes were going "squelch, squelch" with every step. I still had 5.9 miles to run.
After the river a couple of guys passed me on the way up an even smaller berm than the last time (as the Europeans would say, a berm light). We began to run on a gravel path on the crest of the berm, where we stayed until the 10k mark. As we passed the starting line and picked up the 5k course, a spectator yelled to us that we only had 5k to go. "Already?!" I said. I looked at my watch: 52 and change. "That can't be right," I said out loud.
The last 5k was much more trail-like than the first 10k. This trail was much windier, had more roots, and went closer to the water (and the gaters). I was starting to run out of steam and I'd been nauseous since about the second mile. But it was so flat, I couldn't even feel sorry for myself. The miles just kind of fell out of my legs, whether I was feeling crappy or not. Suddenly, right in front of me the trail was taped off. "What the fuck?" I said (out loud). To my right was a 15 foot tall pile of dirt with a deep groove in it. Apparently, this was the second big climb of the day. So I climbed up the 15' gully, back down it, and went back to running. Phew, thank god that's over, I thought facetiously. I've run over curbs that are higher than that.
I was all by myself, playing little mental games to keep myself going when I heard a runner coming up behind me on the single track. "On your left," he called. I gladly pulled off to one side, hoping to have a pace bunny, and eventual alligator food. "Thanks," he said as he blew past at a 6 minute pace. What the...? Then another one passed right on his heels. Well that sure was weird, I thought, and picked it up just a little bit. It seemed like the thing to do when you're with the 6-minute-milers in the last tenth of the race. A minute or two later 3 more guys passed me running a blistering pace, and then another. I figured they must have turned around to do a second lap after the finish. Well that sure was depressing. And I tried to push the pace a little bit more, just in case there was an alligator back there. You don't want to be the slowest one when an alligator's behind you.
When I saw the finish line up ahead I bolted. I knew I couldn't break 1:20, but maybe I could get in under 1:21. I finished in 1:20:54 and they handed me a finisher's cup. Not like a trophy, like a mug. As soon as Angry caught up to me I said, "Gotta keep moving, I'm gonna hurl."
We walked around for a few moments and then stopped. Angry asked, "Are you gonna puke now?"
"I will if we stand still, gotta keep walking."
Once my stomach had settled down Angry filled me in on what I'd missed. The naked chick had won, she was something like 4th overall. He also filled me in on the other posterior chains that had come through before me. I asked him about the speed demons who had passed me at the end. "I couldn't help but overhear you," interrupted a guy with a crew cut. "A bunch of the lead guys went off course. Like way off course, almost 3 miles off course."
Well that explained it. "That sucks. It sure was disheartening being passed like that," I said.
"Believe me, it sucks a whole lot more if you were one of them," he said and walked off, miffed. Oops. I didn't realize he was one of them. He looked more like a lacrosse player than a 6-minute miler. And how the hell could you go off course? This was the best-marked course I'd ever seen, and there was TAPE blocking off all the possible wrong turns. Oh well, I would be pissed if I'd gone off course following a blind retard too.
Hats were supposed to be awarded to the first 25 men and women overall, so we stuck around for the awards ceremony. Up close we saw that the naked chick was NOT in fact hot. She probably weighed in at about 95 lb of solid muscle, but was painfully skinny, except she had a fat face. Like, a really fat face. She had an American Dad chin. Sure, she could run a 15k in an hour, but at least I'm not naked alligator bait with a fat chin. They never gave out the hats though, and I was quite upset when I found out that I was the 19th woman.
But it gets better! Not only did I win an invisible hat and finish right behind the 6 minute milers, I won my age group!!! Really! Given, there was only one other chick in my age group, but I beat her. Actually, the naked chick was my age too, but since she won overall, she wasn't counted in the AG results. So, I won my age group! The only other time I've placed in my AG (under similar circumstances: by default) was the race in CT where I met Angry. I think that Princess Angry is my good luck charm.
Up next: Princess Angry and Claire go to Disney World.
We hit the road and enjoyed seeing sun rise over Tampa as we drove across the bay to Thonotosassa (try saying that 5 times fast!). When we arrived at the race venue we were surprised to see way more runners than we were expecting. "Oh shit, I hope it's not too competitive," I said to Angry. As we walked to the registration table I settled my fears about coming in dead last. "She's got a fat ass, I can run faster than her. She's wearing soccer shorts, I can run faster than her. She's old, I can run faster than her."
"She's got stupid hair" Angry said, pointing to a girl with a 6" puff of hair sticking straight up off of the top-most part of her head. I was surprised he'd torn his eyes off a female posterior for long enough to look up to the top of her head.
"She's got stupid hair, I can beat her," I said.
"Do I have to do this?" said Angry as we came up to the registration table. Originally he had agreed to do the 15k, but that was downgraded to the 5k when, a week before the trip he hadn't run yet... at all, ever. Now it appeared that Princess Angry didn't want to lose his Brooks slippers, or soil his Under Armour gown on the filthy Florida trails. I agreed to let him DNS without giving him a hard time if I could call him a pussy for the rest of the trip. Deal!
Angry is a pussy.
So while I went off to the bathroom to listen to Floridians talk about how cold it was (in the mid-60s), Angry went to the car to get the paper. Then we walked over to the starting line. "Oh my God, that chick's naked!" I said. Well, okay, she wasn't naked, but she was as close as you could be in public without getting arrested. I have underpants that are looser-fitting and lower-cut than her shorts were, and on top she was wearing nothing but a sports bra. It was a skimpy sports bra, if that's possible. She sure stood out in a crowd where most were in jackets. Like fleece jackets.
"You can beat her," said Angry.
"I sure hope not," I said. "There is no excuse to dress like that unless you are going to win."
The start line was at the bottom of a berm. Berm is a word I didn't even know I knew until I saw one. It was a steep embankment about 20 or 30 feet tall between one pancake-flat terrace of land and another. Yep, that there's a berm, I thought right before I hurled myself down to the bottom of it. At the bottom all the Floridians were complaining saying, "Why couldn't we start at the top? Are these 50 feet really that important?" It was steep, but I mean, come on, it was only about 50 feet long! These people don't know how good they have it! When the whistle went off I was to the top of it before I even had a chance to get out of breath.After the monstrous "hill" (berm) we ran into the woods where it was flat, flat, flat. There wasn't even so much as a root to run over, so I turned my attention to the sides of the trail and kept an eye out for alligators. I imagined heroic scenes where I pushed competitors into the gaping jaws of lurking alligators, but I didn't see any alligators.I
'd forgotten my Garmin in the hotel room, and there were no mile markers, so I was running entirely based on feel. My legs were stiff from not doing anything the day before, and I probably took it out too fast trying to overcompensate. After about a mile I figured that I probably couldn't hold this pace and started thinking of my competitors as pace bunnies rather than alligator snacks. Hey, I could always throw them to the alligators in the last 5k if I felt good. But despite my best efforts to hang back, I wound up passing the pace bunnies too easily and picked off several without really wanting to. As I pulled ahead of a peroxide blond (read: obnoxious) she yelled, "How ya feelin'?"She was already behind me and there were several other women around that I thought maybe she was with, so I didn't say anything, but then when no one else answered I said, "Are you talking to me?" She was. I did a quick body scan: my legs were loosening up, but I was feeling a bit dizzy and seeing... not stars, but patterns. My stomach was upset. "O-kay" I said.
"You've gotta say 'great', even if you're not feeling great!" she said. I was glad this woman was behind me. Meaning, I'm glad this woman wasn't going to catch up with me. Where were those damn alligators?
Having fed all the women in sight to the alligators, I was kind of in no man's land for a few minutes and then, up ahead, I saw a river. Specifically, a river intersecting the trail. Oh shit! I did not agree to this! I thought. There are probably alligators in there. I took a quick look around to see if there was a way over it. There was a foot bridge, but it was taped off. I would have still taken a few extra seconds to duck the tape, but the bridge was going off in one direction and looked like it might be going to another trail. Oh fuck, well here goes nothing, I thought as I picked up my knees and sloshed through the knee-deep water for about 15'. Once on the other side my legs felt significantly heavier, my pants were stuck to my calves in such a way that I wondered if my pants would fall down, and my shoes were going "squelch, squelch" with every step. I still had 5.9 miles to run.
After the river a couple of guys passed me on the way up an even smaller berm than the last time (as the Europeans would say, a berm light). We began to run on a gravel path on the crest of the berm, where we stayed until the 10k mark. As we passed the starting line and picked up the 5k course, a spectator yelled to us that we only had 5k to go. "Already?!" I said. I looked at my watch: 52 and change. "That can't be right," I said out loud.The last 5k was much more trail-like than the first 10k. This trail was much windier, had more roots, and went closer to the water (and the gaters). I was starting to run out of steam and I'd been nauseous since about the second mile. But it was so flat, I couldn't even feel sorry for myself. The miles just kind of fell out of my legs, whether I was feeling crappy or not. Suddenly, right in front of me the trail was taped off. "What the fuck?" I said (out loud). To my right was a 15 foot tall pile of dirt with a deep groove in it. Apparently, this was the second big climb of the day. So I climbed up the 15' gully, back down it, and went back to running. Phew, thank god that's over, I thought facetiously. I've run over curbs that are higher than that.I was all by myself, playing little mental games to keep myself going when I heard a runner coming up behind me on the single track. "On your left," he called. I gladly pulled off to one side, hoping to have a pace bunny, and eventual alligator food. "Thanks," he said as he blew past at a 6 minute pace. What the...? Then another one passed right on his heels. Well that sure was weird, I thought, and picked it up just a little bit. It seemed like the thing to do when you're with the 6-minute-milers in the last tenth of the race. A minute or two later 3 more guys passed me running a blistering pace, and then another. I figured they must have turned around to do a second lap after the finish. Well that sure was depressing. And I tried to push the pace a little bit more, just in case there was an alligator back there. You don't want to be the slowest one when an alligator's behind you.
When I saw the finish line up ahead I bolted. I knew I couldn't break 1:20, but maybe I could get in under 1:21. I finished in 1:20:54 and they handed me a finisher's cup. Not like a trophy, like a mug. As soon as Angry caught up to me I said, "Gotta keep moving, I'm gonna hurl."We walked around for a few moments and then stopped. Angry asked, "Are you gonna puke now?"
"I will if we stand still, gotta keep walking."
Once my stomach had settled down Angry filled me in on what I'd missed. The naked chick had won, she was something like 4th overall. He also filled me in on the other posterior chains that had come through before me. I asked him about the speed demons who had passed me at the end. "I couldn't help but overhear you," interrupted a guy with a crew cut. "A bunch of the lead guys went off course. Like way off course, almost 3 miles off course."
Well that explained it. "That sucks. It sure was disheartening being passed like that," I said.
"Believe me, it sucks a whole lot more if you were one of them," he said and walked off, miffed. Oops. I didn't realize he was one of them. He looked more like a lacrosse player than a 6-minute miler. And how the hell could you go off course? This was the best-marked course I'd ever seen, and there was TAPE blocking off all the possible wrong turns. Oh well, I would be pissed if I'd gone off course following a blind retard too.
Hats were supposed to be awarded to the first 25 men and women overall, so we stuck around for the awards ceremony. Up close we saw that the naked chick was NOT in fact hot. She probably weighed in at about 95 lb of solid muscle, but was painfully skinny, except she had a fat face. Like, a really fat face. She had an American Dad chin. Sure, she could run a 15k in an hour, but at least I'm not naked alligator bait with a fat chin. They never gave out the hats though, and I was quite upset when I found out that I was the 19th woman.But it gets better! Not only did I win an invisible hat and finish right behind the 6 minute milers, I won my age group!!! Really! Given, there was only one other chick in my age group, but I beat her. Actually, the naked chick was my age too, but since she won overall, she wasn't counted in the AG results. So, I won my age group! The only other time I've placed in my AG (under similar circumstances: by default) was the race in CT where I met Angry. I think that Princess Angry is my good luck charm.
Up next: Princess Angry and Claire go to Disney World.
8 comments:
Congrats!
I can't believe you guys just skipped on down to FL to run a race. VERY FUN.
especially the 3.5 hour nap. That's my kinda weekend.
Great job in the race!
Welcome back!!
As a pukaphobic, I'm glad you didn't hurl at the end. Congrats on your WIN! Can't wait to hear about Disney...
Sounds like a great weekend. congrats on the AG win..that is awesome!
Got to love the no double dipping rules. But hey an AG win is an AG win. I am sort of jealous of the fact you two are in Florida but since I just got back from another hemisphere its all good.Congrats It's actually been kind of warm up here the past two days it's broken 40 ....
Oh what fun. nice job at the race.
Angry is a pussy.
How did you manage to get Angry to fly all the way down there and then not run?
Thats seems to be my trick nowadays.
I feel the love. I'll also destroy any haters in the weight room.
Congrats on placing in your AG! Maybe Angry is your good luck charm. Here's hoping that trend continues in January at Disney. I can't wait to hear your version of the trip to the World this past weekend. I promise to show you all my great dance moves when we meet up in January - churning the butter, the shopping cart, the sprinkler, the hustle.... It was really getting Avery to laugh although she was less impressed with the shopping cart.
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